Conveyment
by solitaryloner
Summary: Eyes can be so many things - they're windows to the soul, a way to communicate without words, a medium with which one can express their innermost thoughts and feelings. His eyes are so striking; I can't help but notice those eyes, always so blank and expressionless, yet strangely intense and piercing. They make me wonder what he's really thinking. NeroXMiku, for theunhappytwins.


_**Solitaryloner: **__Request for theunhappytwins. NeroXMiku. I'll be using my headcanon for Nero, which I don't think I've really used in any story before…I know that technically, Nero has yellow eyes, but I have this tendency to give both him and Neru violet eyes. Violet eyes are so pretty, and they suit Nero really well. I think._

* * *

"Leave me alone. I'm busy," slender fingers flew swiftly across the keypad, tapping away. The blond-haired boy didn't even bother looking up at the speaker, who let out a long-suffering sigh – he was more than used to this kind of unfriendly treatment.

"You've been using that phone of yours for an hour. I think it's about time you stopped," Mikuo Hatsune leant back against the sofa, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The television was switched on, showing a football match which neither of them happened to be watching. The only reason the television was switched on was so as to fill the silence between them. "Who are you texting, anyway?" he added, gaze sliding over to glance at his friend.

"None of your business," was the absent-minded reply. Finally, the boy lifted his fingers from the keypad, flipping the phone closed. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. "We're supposed to be working on that assignment, aren't we?" he asked bluntly, his fingers drumming agitatedly against his denim-clad kneecap. Mikuo arched an eyebrow, his lips pursing – never had he met someone as infuriating as this brat. It made him wonder why they were even friends – that boy seemed to prefer the company of his phone to actual people.

"You're the one who was down there, typing away on his phone," he pointed out, just as bluntly. Eyes snapped open, and then that piercing violet stare pinned him; Mikuo felt like he was being scrutinised, and he wasn't too fond of that feeling. "Where's your sister?" he asked quickly, trying to change the topic. Those same violet eyes narrowed slightly, before the boy let out a small cough, finally looking away from Mikuo. Mikuo held in a sigh of relief.

"She has her Drama Club today, so she's going to be back late," he answered. His older sister, Neru Akita, was a college student who was studying law. As such, she rarely returned home early, sometimes not coming back at all, since she had friends who lived much closer to the college than she did – if it was too late, she would just sleep over at their house. There was a brief silence, before it was broken by the blond-haired boy. "How's your sister?" the words were uttered coolly, seemingly unconcerned, but Mikuo still glanced up at him.

"Miku…?" Mikuo frowned slightly, almost imperceptibly. "She's fine. Why do you ask?" It wasn't like him to ask about someone he wasn't close to, Mikuo thought. _After all, he's more interested in his phone and social network than with specific people…_the boy just shrugged his shoulders, his fingers drifting back towards his phone. As always, Nero Akita couldn't keep his hands away from his precious baby for more than a few minutes at a time.

"Nothing. Just curious. You asked about Neru, after all," Nero said simply, his fingers suddenly shifting away from his phone, his hand moving up to rake his fringe out of his eyes. "I was just returning the favour. Could you switch that thing off?" he added, tilting his head towards the television. It was now showing a commercial for beer. Mikuo reached out to pick up the remote, turning the television off. A sudden, eerie silence fell throughout the house.

_But you've never asked after Miku before…_Mikuo kept his mouth shut though, knowing that Nero wouldn't answer even if he asked. Nero Akita was quite the recluse, preferring to keep his thoughts and secrets to himself. He rarely spoke to people – instead, if he had to speak to someone, he would do so through text. There were people in their class who had never even _heard _his voice before, for he spoke so little. He was rarely called upon by the teacher, since he wasn't the kind to volunteer to answer, and he did well in tests, so teachers tended not to bother too much about his conduct in class. "Do you want to start on our homework now?"

Nero nodded slowly, reaching out to pick up loose sheets of paper from the coffee table. "It's been an hour since you came to my house…I thought we should have finished by now," he said softly, almost inaudibly. Mikuo struggled with the urge to retort – that if Nero hadn't been _texting _for the past hour, they would have been done by now. He knew that even if he were to say such a thing, the boy would just ignore him. Nero was more than just quiet – he was _cold _and aloof. The only reason why Mikuo was his friend was because he sat right in front of the blond-haired boy. As a result, they tended to be paired up for projects and such.

"Tell her to take care of herself," the sudden, unexpected words made Mikuo glance up in surprise – Nero was staring at his undone essay assignment, and it seemed almost as though the boy hadn't said a single thing – but Mikuo was sure that he hadn't imagined what he just heard. _Her? Who is he talking about…Miku? _Mikuo scratched his head, confused – why was the blond boy so _interested _in Miku all of a sudden? He had never seemed to notice the girl before, despite her being his little sister. In the end, he just pretended he heard nothing.

Being Nero Akita's friend was not a task for the faint of heart…or the easily confused.

* * *

"He's never going to like you, Miku. Why are you so hopeless?" she bit her lip, scowling a little in abject frustration. "You are such an idiot," she continued, staring at herself in the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her, and she was struck with the sudden urge to break the glass. Why did her reflection seem to stare at her knowingly? Like she knew something she herself did not? It was so aggravating; she sighed, turning abruptly away from her reflection.

She threw herself down upon her bed, hugging her pillow for comfort. She wanted, so badly, to know what he was thinking about – what someone as cold and mysterious as him was thinking about, at this very moment. Was he texting, as he always seemed to do? Who was he texting? A girlfriend? A crush? She felt a little pang in her chest, at the possibility that he might already be attached, and her infatuation was a ridiculous one – it was a very real possibility, since he was so attractive. Attractive in a cold, almost mesmerising way…

At this moment, her older brother was with him, studying. Mikuo was good friends with _him,_ and she couldn't help feeling a little jealous of that – but what was the point? And it wasn't too surprising, since they were in the same senior class. She was only a sophomore, and he was far out of her league. She would never be able to get close to him, not in the way she wanted – yet, she couldn't help thinking of him, wondering what he was doing. Wondering whether he was thinking of her…she blinked rapidly, shaking her head at herself.

Her crush was clichéd. _She _was clichéd. The whole thing was clichéd. Really, she wouldn't have been struck by this ridiculous infatuation if she hadn't been late to school for that one day, and hadn't seen him standing in the hallway, struggling with a stuck locker – if she had been early as she usually was, if the hallway had been crowded, if he hadn't looked up at her the very moment she hurried past him, causing her footsteps to slow and come to a stop…

He had the loveliest violet eyes. She was walking past him, almost running, hoping that the teacher hadn't taken attendance yet – and he looked up at her. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw a glimpse of violet; she turned, looking for the violet, which was her favourite colour. And their eyes met. For that one moment, she couldn't breathe – she had never seen a pair of eyes which were more _intense, _more _penetrating, _than his were. Their gazes connected, and she stilled, the two of them just staring at each other – after a few dazed seconds, she recalled she was running late for class, and immediately dashed off, berating herself. Why had she just stood there, gaping at him? Now, he probably thought she was some kind of idiot.

Nevertheless, she was curious about who he was, this boy with the bright blond hair and his intense, striking violet eyes. After some discreet – or perhaps not so discreet – questioning, she found out that his name was Nero Akita, and that he was a senior who happened to be in the same class as her _brother. _She couldn't stop herself from being curious about him, from wanting to know him better, from wanting to drown in those eyes. His eyes were by far his most striking feature, literally jumping out at her. That shade of violet was startlingly lovely, beautiful even, but his eyes themselves were so _cool_ and _distant_…it was an odd mix.

Still, no matter how fascinated by his eyes she was, she knew that he hardly cared about her. In all honesty, she would be surprised if he even knew that she existed. He was famous for his quietness, for the way he seemed to prefer his phone to the company of any other person. He probably didn't know who she was, and even if he did, it was more than likely that he knew her only as 'my classmate's little sister'. Sighing again, she sat up in bed, running her fingers through her long hair, resisting the urge to just open the window and scream out.

Actually, the hallway incident hadn't taken place too long ago. Only a month ago, really; yet, she was infatuated with him to the point of obsession. All it had taken was one look into those penetrating violet eyes, and she was utterly, completely under his spell. Maybe she wouldn't have liked him were it not for his eyes, were it not for that hue of violet…she loved the colour violet, and that drew her to him. He was handsome even without the eyes, but she found that she wanted to stare into that gaze for all of eternity. Just staring and staring…

She shook her head again, her long hair whipping around her face. She pressed her palms against her cheeks, frustrated beyond belief. "This is becoming unhealthy," she muttered to herself, glad that no one knew of her obsessive crush on Nero Akita. The senior who didn't know that she even existed. _It would be better if I got over him, and focus on my studies. Really, there's no point in even thinking of relationships right now…_she felt her cheeks heat up at the thought. _If he was my boyfriend…_she squeaked, burying her face in her pillow.

"That's it, Miku. You need to stop thinking about him all the time," she told herself, trying to be stern. Her voice came out as meek and unassuming, and she scowled – but she couldn't bring herself to repeat those words. _Well, whatever. _She would just throw herself into her studies, and hope that by immersing herself in books, she would somehow manage to completely get over him. _Fat chance of that happening. _But it was better than not trying at all, wasn't it?

She got off the bed, walking out of her room, deciding to get a drink. As she walked out to the landing, she heard the sound of the front door opening, and immediately knew that her brother was back. She went down the stairs, prepared to greet him – instead, as she hurried down, her feet slowed, and she had to cling on to the banisters to prevent herself from fainting in shock. There stood the very boy she had been thinking of mere moments ago, his blond hair dark from rain, plastered to his face. His clothes were dark too, wet with water.

Nero Akita looked up at her, those striking violet eyes meeting her gaze – he stared at her for a moment, causing her to almost hyperventilate, before he looked away, just as disinterestedly. The door was still open, and as she watched, lightning flashed outside. The storm still hadn't eased up, then. It had been raining since this morning, and as a result she hadn't woken up till this afternoon. Mikuo was out by then, off to do his homework at Nero's house, since her brother claimed that her presence in the house sapped his intelligence.

The door slammed shut, and she looked up, startled – there was her brother, looking faintly annoyed, his teal hair sticking to his face the same way Nero's did. "Bloody rain," the teal haired boy cursed loudly at the door, kicking it for good measure. "And you," he glared balefully at the calm Nero, "why don't you have a single umbrella in your house, dammit?" he growled, evidently frustrated. Nero was looking around, not paying him any attention.

_Mikuo must have left the house before it started raining this morning, and got stuck in the downpour as a result…_ "Mikuo?" she asked hesitantly, walking one step down – Nero looked up at the sound of her voice, and this time, he didn't look away. She tried to ignore that gaze, ignore the thrill his stare sent through her. "Why are you and…" her words trailed off, and she gave Nero a quick glance. He was still staring at her. Mikuo coughed, running his fingers through his hair – water droplets dripped from him to the floor. He was completely drenched.

"There was a blackout at Nero's house, so we decided to run through the rain back here, since we haven't finished our research paper," Mikuo explained, pushing his sopping fringe out of his eyes. It stayed out of his eyes, and he placed his hands on his shirt hem, taking it off – she averted her gaze, not quite wanting to see her brother half-naked. He wrung the shirt as he spoke, causing the small puddle around him to grow bigger. Nero was still watching her, and she fidgeted, starting to feel uncomfortable under the weight of his stare. "I should go and buy dinner first, though," Mikuo added, glancing across at the clock. "What do you want?"

"Anything, as long as it's convenient for you," she glanced at the clock too. It was nearing six pm. She had been lazing in her room, doing completely nothing, for the past four hours. "Don't you want to wait a little, since it's still raining outside? Mum and Dad won't be home for a while, since they're both working overtime today…" she looked out of the window. Lightning flashed again, causing her to flinch. She was not particularly fond of storms. "You'll catch a cold if you keep getting drenched, you know," she added.

"I'm strong," Mikuo said dismissively. He was two years older than her, at the age of eighteen, and he usually looked after the both of them when their parents weren't around. Their parents were both working, and they worked overtime a lot. Today happened to be one of those days. "You want anything to eat, Nero? My treat," Mikuo turned towards the blond-haired boy. Nero shook his head, and Mikuo shrugged. "Suit yourself, then."

With those words, he put his now damp shirt on, reaching out to grab an umbrella from the stand next to the door. "I'll be back in half an hour," he shouted over the howl of the wind, opening the front door – then, he stepped out, the door closed, and she was left alone in the house with Nero Akita. She swallowed, a little frightened – she had not expected this. She never thought that he would ever come here, much less with just the two of them around…how was she supposed to react now? Should she try to talk to him?

He was still dripping water onto the carpet. "Um…I'll go get a towel for you," she managed not to stutter, going up the stairs as quickly as she could without outright running. She locked herself in the bathroom, her fingers clenching around the doorknob, her eyes closing in anxiety. _What do I do, what do I do? _Nero Akita was here! The senior she had been having an obsessive crush on for one month was here! In her house! Completely wet! She breathed in and out rapidly, trying to calm her nerves – after a minute or so, when she was sure she was not going to start hyperventilating, she grabbed a towel and slowly made her way back down.

As she went back down the flight of stairs, her eyes widened, and her cheeks flamed – he was shirtless now, wringing his shirt out, still standing in the exact spot she had left him. She let out an embarrassing squeak, using the towel to cover her face; rooted to the ground, Miku bit her lip, her face almost definitely bright red. That one quick glimpse of pale, toned skin…_no, this is wrong, this is bad. Very, very bad Miku! You do not just go around ogling half-naked guys! _To be fair, she hadn't been ogling – he was just standing there in plain sight, and she –

_No, don't even think about that! _Suddenly, the towel was snatched out of her hands – letting out a gasp of surprise, she looked up. She saw the back of his head as he walked down half of the stairs, using the towel to dry his golden hair. He seemed completely disinterested in her, perfectly comfortable in his own skin; her blush deepened. Didn't he care at all that she was here, that she was looking, that he didn't have his shirt on? "Thank you," the quiet voice said, and she glanced at him, startled – that was the first time she had heard him speak, so far.

"Oh, um, it was nothing," she looked down, feeling awkward, not quite knowing what to do. Why did Mikuo have to leave her alone with him? She was excited about him being so near, yet she had completely no idea what she ought to do right now. She considered going back to her room to hide, but she didn't want to seem unfriendly or anything. _What to do, what to do…_she let out a sigh, utterly confused and helpless. She had never been good at talking to strangers – and, even if she liked him, he was still a stranger. Actually, the fact that she had a _crush _on him made it even harder for her to consider trying to strike up a conversation.

"I'll get something for you to drink," she said abruptly, dying to escape from this room. She had wanted to get a glass of water for herself, anyway. Without waiting for his response, she dashed off past him, averting her gaze, and practically sprinted into the kitchen. _Now, if that wasn't obvious, I don't know what is. _She breathed out, her fingers fluttering to her forehead, groaning in total embarrassment. _He probably thinks I'm weird. Who am I trying to kid? I'm weird! _With those thoughts spinning in her head, she grabbed two glasses from the cabinet, filling them up with water – holding the two glasses, she hesitated, not quite daring to leave.

Finally, after a rather long and encouraging mental pep talk, she stepped out of the sanctuary that was her kitchen. Nero looked up as she entered the living room – he was still shirtless, but now he was sitting on the floor, off the carpet. She walked stiffly over to him, handing him one of the two glasses – he rose from the floor and took the glass, still watching her intently. She wondered why he kept staring at her; it made her feel like she was some kind of exhibit in the zoo. Should she feel complimented that he kept looking at her? "Thank you," he said again, this time to her face. She felt her cheeks heating up once again.

"It's just water," she said hastily, "no need for thanks," she gripped her remaining glass with trembling fingers. _God, I'm so nervous right now…he is so close, and wow, look at those eyes, they're so pretty…is it me, or is he even more handsome than I remember? Is my staring freaking him out? He's just looking right back at me, oh Lord, he's frowning, is that a frown forming on his forehead – what did I do, he thinks I'm weird! He definitely thinks I'm weird. I shouldn't have just frozen there on the stairs earlier – wait, why is his face coming closer -_

His fingers reached out to her, and she froze, staying completely still. His hand moved to her hair – there was a slight pressure, then it was gone and he was bringing his hand back to his side. "You had a piece of cotton in your hair," he said softly, the frown smoothing out. He held out his hand for her to see, and sure enough, there was a piece of fluffy white down. She just nodded stiffly, not very sure how else she was supposed to react. He tilted his head – she noticed that he was much taller than she was – and, all of a sudden, he smiled.

She couldn't breathe. She thought he looked attractive enough with his usual neutral expression, but the very moment he smiled, she wanted to swoon. He had the most charming smile, and it really brought out the unique colour of his eyes – he had one of those celebrity smiles, with the perfect straight white teeth and casual grin. Then, just as quickly, the smile was gone, and she found that she missed his smile already. "Feeling nervous?"

_How did he…am I that obvious? _"N-no…" she stuttered, feeling like a complete idiot. _Why did I stutter? _"I just…uh, well, I just…" her voice trailed off as she struggled for something to say, anything which wouldn't make him think she was a moron. "It's just that I don't have any idea what to say to you," she finally mumbled, cheeks flushing. "Since, you know, you're two years older than me and we've never really talked before…" she sounded stupid. Even in her head, the words sounded stupid. He probably thought she was stupid now, too.

"You're the girl in the hallway. Mikuo's sister," Nero said thoughtfully, slinging the towel across his shoulders. "He's talked to me about you," he added at the curiosity on her face. Instantly, she panicked – who knew what kind of embarrassing secrets her brother had leaked out to him? "Not a lot, though," Nero added, completely oblivious to the emotional turmoil she was going through at that very moment. "Just a few things, here and there…like how you go on and on when you're talking about something you like, or how you're a total romantic who believed that one day, your prince would come and take you away on a white horse…or how you like to sing and dance, and how you like to just shut yourself away and think about things. He is very protective of you," Nero finished, his violet gaze drifting away from her.

_Why did Mikuo tell him all these things about me? _Miku bit her lip, wondering what Nero thought of her. What kind of impressions he had of her, as a result of her brother. Had Mikuo talked to him about her before that incident in the hallway? Or had the two of them spoken about her only _because _Nero noticed the resemblance between her and her brother, and asked Mikuo if he happened to have a sister? She couldn't help dwelling on the second possibility, which was that Nero might actually have been interested in her enough to ask about her…

"Um," was all she managed to say, knowing that she probably looked like a total fool in front of him. Why was she so awkward with people? Why couldn't she be more like her best friend Rin, who was sociable and friendly, and good at making new friends…Miku was an idiot when it came to the social department, and rarely talked to new people unless she had no choice but to do so. In fact, if she had a choice, she would just stay at home the whole day, in a bid to avoid human interaction. It was just so _difficult _for her to really talk to people.

He didn't say anything either. In fact, he looked away from her again, sipping at the glass of water she had handed to him, his free hand drifting to his jeans pocket. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he started patting frantically at his pockets, obviously searching for something. She wondered what he was looking for. Nero glanced at the white shirt on the table, then started to mutter agitatedly under his breath. "Dammit," he finally breathed, closing his eyes. "I must have left my phone back in my house…how could I have forgotten it?"

"…it's just a phone?" she offered. He just shot her a look – a look that was part disbelief, part panic – and turned away from her. Obviously rather unhappy with the situation at hand, the blond haired boy sat back down on the floor, the panic melting away from his expression. This time, however, the usual placidness of his face seemed a little forced, she couldn't help noticing. Miku got the sense that Nero's phone was something extremely precious to him. She couldn't help wondering why – after all, it was just a phone. Shouldn't people, and his relationships with people, be more important than a phone? Phones were replaceable, but people and relationships were not. She shot him a glance; he looked so still, so aloof…

She wanted to ask him so many things. Why was he so cold and…almost unfriendly? Why was it that he never seemed to talk to people? Why did he rely so much on his phone? But she didn't dare to ask him a single question – not just because she wasn't close to him and didn't know him well – she had to admit that she was rather frightened of the kind of answer she would receive. She was intimidated by him, even though she was also rather attracted, and in her eyes, he was practically perfect; knowing more about him…she didn't know how she would react to that, to him being more than someone she just idolised from afar.

"You look like you have something on your mind," his voice cut through the silence, his tone almost curt. "If you wish to give voice to your thoughts, then do that. Don't just stay silent," somehow, his terseness hurt…like there was a tiny knife driving itself into her chest. He saw her wince, and she thought she saw his violet eyes soften just a bit. "I'm sorry for being rude. That was uncalled for," the apology was said in as neutral a tone as ever, but the sense behind those words was different from the way he spoke earlier. "I'm just…no, it's nothing…"

"Why do you rely on your phone so much?" she blurted out hastily, not wanting to lose his attention – not when he finally seemed to be acknowledging her as an equal, as an acquaintance; not when he finally seemed willing to share a tiny bit more of himself with her. _I might be frightened of what he is really like, what kind of person he truly turns out to be. I know he might not be as perfect and regal as he appears to be, in my imagination – but he is a person, nevertheless, and I should make the effort to actually try and talk to him. I don't want to seem standoffish, and besides…I can't deny that I'm interested to know more about him. About his thoughts and what he is like, how he thinks about everything._

_How he thinks about me…_she cut that final thought off. It was too early to be thinking of that; and she felt that she would never dare to know how he thought of her. She didn't want him to think of her as a child, immature and unknowing, but she suspected that was how he viewed her. She was, after all, his junior. "Why I rely on my phone so much…" he echoed, blinking at her slowly. She swallowed – had she been too hasty in her question? Was this a sensitive topic for him, something she ought not to have brought up? He looked like he was deep in thought, like he was considering his words carefully before he next spoke. Finally, he let out a quiet sigh, and patted the ground before him. _Is he telling me to sit next to him…?_

Hesitantly, she sat. He pushed his damp hair away from his face. She couldn't help noticing how pale his skin was, how perfectly aristocratic his features were. _He's really handsome. It's not surprising that people are intrigued by him, even though he is so mysterious and cold. _"I do not have a way with words," he began, his voice soft and low. She was starting to realise that he always spoke so softly, so quietly. Like he didn't dare to speak up and draw any attention to himself. "To tell the truth, my words can be harsh and biting. I don't know how to speak well. How to comfort, or seem friendly, or be…pleasant. None of these things are part of my nature. I remain silent because I don't want to hurt or offend anyone."

His gaze lingered curiously on her. She resisted the urge to fidget. _Why is he willing to talk to me, and confide in me…? _Maybe not confide. But the way he was speaking to her, his voice so low and earnest…it seemed almost like a confession of sorts. Just not the kind she was hoping and dreaming so foolishly for… "My phone makes up for that," he continued, his eyes never leaving hers. "When I message people, I have time to really think and consider my words – to read through what I am typing and wonder if I will offend someone, if I happen to sound too blunt or rude. My phone is the means through which I speak; without my phone, I am nothing. I am a mute. It might sound strange to most people, but…could you understand what I mean?" he let out a soft laugh. The laugh seemed almost helpless, to her.

"I…I think I do," she said slowly. To her surprise, she found that she meant what she said. What he was saying…it reminded her of herself in a way. The way she was bad at talking to people, always treading lightly around interaction, fearing that she would hurt somebody with her obliviousness. His eyes widened by a fraction, and he tilted his head, listening to her. She swallowed. "I mean, I…I don't talk very well either," she said honestly, ducking her head. "I would rather hide in my room the whole day than come out and talk to someone, because I don't know what to say. And, even when I do know, I'm scared I'll hurt their feelings…"

Her voice trailed off, and both of them remained in an awkward silence for a while. Her thoughts and feelings were bubbling up in her, and she gnawed on her lip, unable to meet his violet eyes. Suddenly, she felt a gentle hand on her head – she looked up, startled. Nero was touching her hair, a look of faint understanding on his face. She felt her heartbeat speed up. _He's touching me again. _"I think you're rather eloquent, actually," he told her, his eyes strangely gentle and comforting. "Maybe you're just shy. It must be difficult, living with such an energetic older brother. It hurts a little to always be compared to him, doesn't it?"

She gasped. She had never spoken to anyone about it before, had never given rise to the unspoken feelings of discontentment she felt about the constant sibling comparison – _oh, Mikuo is so popular and sociable, why can't you be more like him, Miku? He's always bringing his friends over, always going to parties and being invited to things. All you do is sit at home and stare into space. You should really start making some friends, sweetheart! _It wasn't that she hated or was jealous of her brother, or anything like that. They were completely different people, with different personalities. She just wished her parents would recognise her as an individual, not as Mikuo's sister, and stop comparing them all the time.

"I have an older sister, Neru," Nero laughed at the look on her face. It was a warm laugh, rich and pleasant, and she found that it was rather melodious. Strange, for a boy. She liked his laugh. It reminded her of lovely, buttery summer days. "My parents compare me to her all the time as well. She's studying law, and she's really smart; she's a scholar and everything, you know," he smiled wistfully. "Yes, I understand that she's a lot smarter than me, but I wish they would stop reminding me about that. I don't have her strengths, but I'm sure I can be as capable as her in other ways…" his voice faded. She gaped at him – _did he just…tell me a secret of some sort? _"It's normal for the younger sibling to be compared to the first. Happens to all of us, no matter how old we are," he patted her on the head, then withdrew his hand.

She missed his hand. She felt like she was being treated as a child, yet she could not deny that his warmth was comforting. Even though he was rather wet, he was still warm. "I…" she had no idea what to say. "Thank you for telling me that," she said lamely, glad that she could at least understand him a little better. "I never knew that you saw your phone that way. Since, you know…phones could be so easily replaced?" the lilt at the end of the sentence made it sound like a question. She worried that he might get offended, but instead, he just shook his head and smiled at her. She realised that this was the first time she had seen him smile so much, so warmly – whenever she observed him in school, his face was expressionless, almost like a mask. So cold that he ought to repel, but with a frigid beauty that drew people to him…

"I like messaging for another reason. It allows you to ask questions, and say things, that you might not dare to say in real life. Virtual means give a false sense of security, but that false sense is comforting, all the same," he closed his eyes, drinking from his glass again. She took this chance, while his eyes were closed, to stare blatantly at him. He was so mesmerising to her, so untouchably perfect; she realised abruptly that even though he had opened up to her a little, her opinion of him didn't change much. In fact, she changed for the better – _he's not perfect, he has his weaknesses and flaws as well. But those flaws make him more human, more approachable, almost less…intimidating. Is it okay for me to feel a little closer to him?_

"What kind of questions?" she asked, curious to know. His eyes flew open, and immediately, she glanced down at the floor, not wanting to be caught staring openly at him. He didn't reply for a while, and in that same period of tense silence, she continued looking at the floor, counting all the tiny grooves in the wood. She had never noticed how fascinating the floor was before, really. How had she not noticed all these patterns carved onto the wood, all the small grooves and bumps on the floor – truly a wonderful floor, she felt. She wondered whether all houses came with this kind of floor, or if it was specifically made for this house –

"Just…just questions," he finally muttered. She tore her gaze away from the floor, her face heating up – to her surprise, she thought that she saw a tiny hint of pink on his cheeks. _Is he blushing…? Why? _"It's not really anything much," he set his glass of water down on the coffee table. When he next looked up at her, his face was as pale as ever, and she started to wonder whether she had just imagined the whole thing. "Can I have your phone?" he asked abruptly. Blinking, she passed her phone to him, cringing inwardly as her silly little leek phone charm swung back and forth. It looked childish, but she loved that charm. He didn't comment on the charm though, to her amazement; instead, he just keyed something into her phone, then passed it unceremoniously back to her. She stared down at her phone screen.

_Nero Akita, _she saw the contact. She swallowed. He had given her his phone number. "You don't mind me…texting you, do you?" he asked slowly. She shook her head, trying not to seem too eager – of course she didn't mind Nero texting her. He smiled, and was clearly about to say something when the front door swung open. There stood Mikuo, umbrella closed, body evidently still wet, carrying two boxes of pizza. "Food's here!" Mikuo yelled, slamming the door shut behind him. Miku wondered whether the umbrella had worked – Mikuo looked like he had just gone for a swim, fully clothed. "I hope it's not wet," her brother added.

She looked back at Nero, wondering whether he would finish his sentence. Instead, his face was completely blank, and it looked like the two of them hadn't had a conversation at all. So, she sighed quietly to herself and turned away, towards the pizza – she had to wonder why her brother hadn't just ordered a delivery if he was going to buy pizza, but in the end, she decided not to question it. She was hungry, there was food, and she wasn't going to think too much.

Still, she couldn't help wishing that her brother had come home just a little bit later, just a minute later. What on Earth had Nero been about to say to her?

* * *

Nero and Mikuo spent the rest of the night researching for their project, so Miku just went up to bed. She couldn't sleep though, with all the thoughts running through her head. She kept thinking about Nero, about all the things he had said to her, whatever it was he was _about _to say to her before they were interrupted. Curiosity and disappointment bit viciously at her, and even two hours later, she was still lying awake in bed, wondering about the blond haired boy.

She wasn't sure what time Nero left her house. She knew it had stopped raining though – now, there was just a light drizzle, making it nice sleeping weather. If only she was able to actually sleep…her phone on her bedside table vibrated. Pushing herself up, she reached out for the phone – when she saw the message was from Nero Akita, she blinked wide awake, eagerly opening the message. _I'm outside your house. Could you come out for a moment? I want to talk to you. _That was all that the message said. Instantly, she rushed out of her room, dressed in nothing but her nightdress, wondering fervently what it was he wanted to talk about.

The whole house was dark. Mikuo must have gone to sleep. It was near midnight…her parents still weren't home yet, thankfully, since she knew that if they were they would question what she was doing. Carefully, she opened the front door, looking out for Nero. She saw someone move in the shadows, and then the boy in question approached her, his violet eyes almost black in the darkness of the night. She closed the door behind her, stepping out towards him. He saw her, and he smiled again, that beautiful smile. She stared, mesmerised.

"I thought you might be asleep," he admitted honestly. "But I wanted to bank on that small chance that you weren't, so…I guess it was good to come out here and wait," he tilted his head, watching her. She blushed under his intense scrutiny, and was glad that the dark night hid her red cheeks. It was drizzling lightly outside, but neither of them made a bid for shelter. "I guess you might be wondering why I asked you out," he suddenly said, looking away from her. She blinked, staring at him; she couldn't be sure, but she thought he looked embarrassed.

"It is rather late," she pointed out hesitantly, not wanting to push him away. She had to be careful – she didn't want to offend him, to drive him away, to make him think that she didn't want to speak to him when in truth, that was the only thing she wished for. He nodded, but didn't try to say anything, and she just looked expectantly at him. Was he waiting for something? What was he waiting for? He shifted a little, into the light of the moon – it lit him up from behind, and she saw his golden hair glimmer silver under its radiance. She wished she did not like him that way, for there was no way someone so beautiful would like her. He was older than her, sophisticated and knowing, while she was…gullible. And quite silly.

"Check your phone again," he finally said, his voice so soft that she could barely hear him, despite them being only a short distance apart from each other. She frowned, curious, but doing what he told her to do – lucky thing that she had brought her phone out, in her haste to meet him. She found that she had a new message, again from Nero, and she opened it – as her eyes scanned the message, they widened in disbelief. She read on till the end, and then she looked up at him. He looked as aloof as he always did, but she suspected that his cheeks were slightly pink. "I…" he murmured, looking away from her gaze. "I didn't know how to put it otherwise. How to tell you verbally. In words," he said faintly, sounding a little regretful.

_I really like you, though I guess that you might not have any idea. It's really stupid of me, but I've never known how to express emotions and such – I just…can't. It's not easy for me to open up and talk to someone about my innermost thoughts and feelings. But you're different. I never told anyone else about my phone before, or why it's so important to me; I guess a little part of me just felt that you would be able to understand, somehow._

_I always knew you were different. Ever since you stepped into this school, as a freshman last year, I kind of noticed you. You looked so much like Mikuo, and I guessed you were his little sister. I didn't really pay you much attention, though I knew who you were, until last month…then I saw your eyes, and the way you stared back at me, and I don't know – there was a spark. I don't know if you felt it, but I did. This sense of connection, you know? And I…_

That was what the message read. "And you?" she asked faintly, quite unable to believe that this was happening to her. Her, of all people. She thought she was the only one who had paid any special attention to the incident in the hallway. The message was incomplete. She wanted to know what he wished to say – she wanted him to convey his feelings to her.

"I guess I just fell for you then," he said helplessly. "You have…really pretty eyes," he said softly, making her blink in surprise. "They're so innocent and…warm. I don't know. I just feel secure whenever I look at you. Like you would support me, and understand me…I felt like I knew you, somehow, like I could identify with you, although we had never spoken before. I wanted to show you that I liked you, somehow, but I didn't know how to do so. It's so much in my nature to be quiet and unseen – I just hide in the background, not wanting to draw any attention to myself. People think I'm unfriendly and cold because of that, and in a way I am – but I was so confused, inside. I kept thinking about you, wondering if you liked me, wondering if you felt that same connection, wondering so many things about you…"

It was the same as her feelings for him. Curiosity. Wonderment. Fear for what she didn't understand, what she could not expect…she thought back to that one month she had spent, skulking in the shadows and watching him as he went through his life in school. Their gazes had met again, on occasion – did he think of the same things she did, whenever they looked at each other? "I guess I'm really stupid," his laugh was brittle. "You don't like me, do you?" he asked, something like resignation and disappointment clouding his gaze. "I mean, I'm not a very nice person, and I'm not really affectionate or anything…there are other guys out there who would be so much better than me, I know," he shoved his hands into his pockets, hunching over a little. It hurt her to see him looking so…forlorn. Like an abandoned puppy.

"But I do like you!" she blurted out, in the heat of the moment. She immediately covered her mouth, her cheeks flaming in embarrassment – his head snapped up, and he stared at her, clearly surprised. "I mean…" her voice was muffled behind her hands, "I like you?" she said weakly, hiding her face in her hands. Her cheeks were warm to the touch. "I like you very much, and I thought that…I was the only one who felt drawn to you, that day in the hallway. You were just staring at me, and I actually stopped and stared back and – I sound silly," she wanted to hide in a hole somewhere, far away from his piercing stare. _He's still looking…_

Gentle fingers touched her hands, and they pried her hands away from her face. He held on to her hands, not allowing her to hide away from him again. His violet eyes regarded her, making her want to pull away from him – but he didn't allow her to do that. "Can I…" he whispered, his fingers tightening subtly around her wrists. His face was coming closer to hers. She wasn't sure what he was going to do – _he's not going to kiss me, is he? I mean, I…okay, so maybe he likes me, or maybe this is some kind of joke – there's no way he likes me, that's simply ridiculous, I'm just going to pull away from him now and tell him this isn't funny –_

Then his lips pressed against hers. Her eyes widened – _his lips are so soft and warm…_his fingers, wrapped tightly around her wrists, slackened a little. One hand moved up to the back of her head, keeping her there against him, making sure she couldn't pull away from him. It was a soft and sweet kiss, quick and almost shy, and before she could respond, he pulled back. "I…" he gazed at her, looking almost pleading. She was unused to seeing such an expression on his face – he was always so distant, so regal and removed. "Please?" he asked her quietly, that one simple word making her _feel. _She wondered what he was asking her for.

He leant forward again, slowly this time, allowing her time to withdraw if she wanted to. She remained where she was. Their lips met again, but this time she was ready, and she kissed back, her lips moving along with his. His arms wrapped around her, hugging her close to him, and she closed her eyes in bliss. She never expected that he would like her, that he would want her, that he was attracted to her the way she was attracted to him – he was a puzzle that she had never been able to solve, and he frustrated her so much at times. Yet, now she was realising that…was it possible she had been confusing him all this time as well?

When they next parted, they were both breathing heavily. He leant his forehead against hers, his hand cupping her cheek. "I like you," he said simply. "And I want to go out with you. I want to make you happy and see you smile up at me, that innocent smile you have which lights up the world of everyone around you. I want you to smile because of me, just for me, and I want to protect you and keep you happy. Will you let me do that, Miku?" his voice was so earnest. She couldn't possibly deny him, and she nodded slowly, drowning in those violet eyes, so close to her own. His expression softened. "You have the loveliest eyes…"

"Why?" she asked. She was curious. She was always curious, especially when it came to him – and she knew that, somehow, she would never stop feeling curious about him. He was such a puzzle, so difficult to figure out, so complex and deep and hidden – but he was _her _puzzle now, and she had all the time in the world to try and figure him out. He smiled at her, and she felt warm inside. His smile was sweeter than before, and he was smiling just for her now…

"They say that eyes are the windows to the soul, you know. You are a beautiful person, both inside and out, and you have a beautiful soul. I've never seen another pair of eyes which intrigued and attracted me so much. You're so…childlike, so filled with wonderment and curiosity about everything around you. It makes you innocent, endearing – it makes me want to hold you close and protect you," he kissed her lightly on the forehead. "You're like the opposite of me. And I like that," he leant his chin on the top of her head. She felt so safe at that moment, so secure – the world could end at that very moment, and she would still feel incredibly safe, in his arms. "Never change," he whispered, so soft she almost didn't catch him. "Never lose that innocence and curiosity. They make up who you are."

"I won't change if you won't change either," she replied, causing his arms to tighten around her. "I want to solve all your mysteries, and find out all your secrets, one by one – but slowly. Not because this is a game, but because I want to know you for whom you are. Everything. What makes you…you. You won't change, will you?" she asked, sounding vulnerable.

He smiled, then said two simple words. Two words which made her smile, too. "I won't."

* * *

_**Solitaryloner: **__Wow, this is a long one shot. Okay, I've done longer ones, but still…I feel like doing Nero's point of view now, since this was mostly Miku's side of the story. And it would be so interesting to write from his point of view, since he is such a…I have no idea. Kuudere? Tsundere? Sobs. Why is it that the more I write, the more I want to write? It makes no sense._


End file.
